The Family Rossi
by microgirl
Summary: Dave and Emily adopt a son and adjust to life with a child. Rossi/Prentiss


_The Family Rossi_

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything or anyone in regards to Criminal Minds; the show and its characters belong to a bunch of people who aren't me. I am merely borrowing the characters for my own amusement. Dance puppets, dance._

_Author's Note: This was written for the Family Picnic Ficathon at cmrossiprentiss on LJ. My prompts were Emily's grandmother and Emily and Dave's adopted child; I combined both into this behemoth. Thank you for stopping by and reading, and I hope you enjoy it. Major karma and brownie points to Mingsmommy for the beta. She found missing words, fixed really dumb spelling errors, and was incredibly encouraging. She is awesome like that._

* * *

"Happy Mother's Day!"

Smiling, Emily shook her head as she spoke into the telephone. "Grandma, its June."

"My dear, you will soon find out that everyday should be Mother's Day. One measly day of the year does not come close to appreciating all of the work we do," her grandmother answered in a haughty voice. "Trust me, I know. I raised your mother." Emily laughed and Grandma Estelle asked, "So when do you pick up my new little great-grandson."

"At two-thirty." Releasing a trembling breath, Emily closed her eyes. "He's coming to live with us finally."

"And here, you thought you were never going to be a mother." Emily could clearly picture her grandmother's warm smile. "You really need to listen to your family more often."

Sighing, Emily rolled her eyes. "Yes, Grandma, you were right," she deadpanned.

"As well as your husband, your mother, your father, your team members..."

Even before they were married, Emily and Dave had tried in earnest to start a family. But almost fourteen months later, they still hadn't conceived. Several trips to doctors and specialists had yielded heartbreaking results; one of Emily's ovaries had stopped producing eggs. Not impossible to conceive, but all the more difficult.

Emily cried and cried and blamed herself. But her ever wonderful husband was not giving up on her dream; he suggested adoption.

"Oh right," she'd sniffled. "Who is going to give two middle-aged FBI agents who are in constant contact with serial killers a child?"

But Dave went ahead with the mountains of paperwork, signing them up with every adoption agency. She continued to make sarcastic comments and snide remarks as they filled in each painful truth about their age and profession. But she finally stopped feeling sorry for herself the day she found the stack of from recommendation letters from every member of the team. Her friends didn't hold the same pessimistic attitude she did as they praised her and Dave. Then she found a form filled out by Dave, stating he would retire so he could stay at home with their child. After kissing him breathless, Emily started reading every book she could find on raising adopting children.

Following numerous applications, collecting more letters from her parents and Strauss, and after several interviews, she and Dave were finally contacted by a local agency. They had been matched with a three year old boy. After several meetings, the agency then gave them the option to adopt him, and today they would finally bring home their son.

"Okay, okay!" Emily interjected, chuckling. "All of you were right and I was wrong."

"May I get that on record?" Grandma Estelle inquired. "I will not keep you on the phone long, but I wanted to let you know, that as soon as you two and the little one are settled in, I will be visiting." Emily heard ice clink against glass, and she knew her grandmother was sipping her usual iced tea. "It'll be nice to get away from all of these _old_ people."

Emily shook her head again, this time refraining from laughing. Her grandmother lived in a retirement community in California, still able to take care of herself and as vibrant as ever. She always complained her neighbors wanted to do nothing more than play Canasta and catch the early bird specials at a local diner; Estelle still believed in the cocktail hour and late-night TV.

"Okay, Grandma. We'll let you know when things are ready."

"Of course, dear. And there is absolutely no rush. That boy is your first priority."

Emily couldn't help but grin at those last few words. "I know; he'll be well taken care of." Looking at her watch for the five-hundredth time that day, she swallowed. "Listen, Dave and I have to get going soon."

"You have a wonderful day. You deserve this," Her grandmother told her lovingly. "And Emily?"

"Yeah?"

"You _can_ do this. More than anyone I have ever known in my life."

Blushing slightly, Emily looked down at her feet. "Thank you."

"Goodbye, my dear."

* * *

Mark was two years old when he was abandoned. He'd been found wandering around Potomac Hospital with a note that simply stated _I just can't do it any more. Please take care of Mark._ He had short, jet black hair, large brown eyes, and a slightly pointed nose. When they received the picture of him, Emily burst into tears; she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, this was the son they were meant to have.

A few weeks earlier, they'd been introduced to Mark, and had been permitted to take him to the zoo. The small boy had been quiet for most of the day, not saying much beyond wanting to visit the monkeys. But when they dropped him off, he gave both of them big hugs. Then came two supervised home visits, where they played with Mudgie and colored pictures. The social worker informed Dave and Emily Mark had told her he liked spending time with them. After that, it was just a matter of waiting for the paperwork to be processed.

They arrived at Mark's foster home promptly at two-thirty where Mark waited inside with the foster parents. Smiling tremendously, Emily crouched down on her knees to be eye-level with him.

"Hi, Mark," she greeted warmly. "Do you remember Dave and me?" Mark gave her a small nod. "We're here because we want you to come live with us. Does that sound okay?" Shrugging, he tried to hide behind the other woman's legs.

Dave joined Emily on the floor. "Hey, buddy." His voice was smooth and gentle. "There's a room at our house ready for you with your own bed. And we'll cook you spaghetti just like we promised." Mark now stood fully behind the foster mom's legs, making Emily's heart sink just a little.

Cocking his head, Dave tried to meet the toddler's eyes. "Mark, it's okay to be scared. I know it can be real scary going some place new so we're not going to force you to do anything you're not comfortable with. We can come back at another time when you're ready, okay?"

A few silent moments passed as the adults waited for some sort of response. Slowly, Mark peeked around at Dave and Emily. She offered him another warm smile, hoping it might ease some of his nervousness. He took a tentative step forward, then another, and another. Extending his arm, Dave offered his palm to Mark, where the boy shyly placed his small hand.

"Thank you," she told Mark sincerely. "This really means a lot to us, and I promise the three of us are going to have a lot of fun together."

Collecting the paper bag of clothes from Mark's foster parents, Emily followed Dave back to the car. They strapped Mark into the new car seat with minimal trouble. Emily decided to sit next to Mark as Dave drove back to the house.

Dave kept up a running commentary on the way. "I put a sandbox in the backyard and we can pick out a swing set."

"And you can play with Mudgie too," Emily added. "We can take him to the park and play fetch with him. Doesn't that sound like fun?" She gazed down at Mark who just nodded again. She looked at Dave through the rear view mirror, trying not to appear too worried. She met his eyes, finding love and warmth there. _Patience_, he silently told her. She nodded, knowing they had plenty of time.

When they reached the house, Dave opened the door, and they were greeted with booming barks. A few seconds later, Mudgie raced to the trio. Mark immediately stiffened as the black Lab did a thorough sniffing inspection him.

"Mudgie, calm down," Dave commanded sternly. The dog sat, body quivering with excitement over the new guest. "You remember Mark."

Leaning down, Emily gently rubbed Mark's back. She noticed his little body trembled. "It's okay. Mudgie is just a little excited." She turned her attention to the dog. "Mudgie, shake."

Lifting a leg, Mudgie offered a paw to Mark. When Mark didn't immediately take the offered limb, Mudgie whined, trying again. When Mark finally reached out his hand, the dog let his paw sit in the air, and allowed Mark to grasp him. Once released, Mudgie was thoroughly satisfied, and gave a Mark a friendly lick. Mark giggled, which only spurned Mudgie further.

Grasping Mudgie's collar, Dave chuckled. "I think you guys will be best friends."

"Let's show you to your room." Taking Mark's hand, Emily led him upstairs.

There, she brought him to one of the old guest bedrooms that had been redecorated. The walls had been painted a bright blue, and were adorned with a few cartoon airplane pictures. Similar airplane bedding was pulled over the mattress on the solid oak bed frame. Turning slowly in a circle, Mark stared wordlessly at his surroundings.

Dave leaned against the door frame. "I know the walls are kind of sparse, but we weren't sure what you liked. We can do this room any way you'd like to. Trains, cars, Transformers, GI Joe, Chicago Cubs; whatever you want, buddy."

Mark didn't answer Dave, as he looked from the large oak dresser and sliding closet door to the paper bag containing the four outfits he owned.

Emily quickly caught on. "We are going to fill up those drawers. We'll take you out shopping later this week for all kinds of new clothes."

Getting that same nod again might have been frustrating to any other person, but to Emily, it just meant she had to keep gently trying.

Dave clapped his hands together. "Hey, how about a snack? The refrigerator and cupboards are full of good stuff. You pick out what you like and then we can take the grand tour of the house."

Mark stayed quiet throughout the rest of the afternoon as they showed him all of the rooms. While Dave cooked dinner, Emily decided to give the poor kid a break, and offered to put in a movie.

"Can I watch Nemo?" he softly asked her.

"Of course, kiddo." She pulled out the _Finding Nemo_ DVD (a movie she'd already had in her collection, thanks to Garcia). Sitting on the floor, Mark laughed throughout the movie, a sweet, innocent sound that Emily just loved.

While Mark seemed passive at many other aspects, he certainly wasn't when it came to food. He ate the cut up spaghetti and small piece of garlic bread with gusto. He even cleaned up the seconds he wanted.

"Already has an Italian appetite," Dave grinned proudly causing Emily to shake her head.

After cleaning up, they both helped get Mark ready for bed. When dressed him in the pajamas he had, Emily frowned at the ill-fitting clothing. The sleeves came short of his wrists, and fit him snugly. "We're definitely adding pajamas to the list."

"Okay, Mister Mark." Scooping the boy up, Dave placed him in the bed, tucking him under the sheets. "There's a night light over there," he pointed to the bear wearing a Cubs shirt plugged into the wall. "And we're going to leave the door cracked. You just let us know if you need anything." He kissed the top of Mark's head. "Goodnight, little man. Sleep tight."

Taking her turn, Emily kissed his forehead. "Goodnight, sweetie. We'll see you in the morning."

Casting one last glance at him, she turned out the light, leaving the door cracked a few inches. Once outside, she followed Dave to their bedroom right across the hall. Placing her hands on his cheeks, she kissed him deeply. Then she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his shoulder.

"What was that for?" He stroked his hand over her hair.

"Thank you for making this happened." Her voice cracked with emotion.

"We were going to be parents one way or another."

Snuggling closer, her lips brushed against his neck. "You're a good man, you know that?"

"No, I'm a _great_ man," he teasingly corrected. "But I would also accept magnificent."

She pulled back enough to let him see the eyeroll. Emily was just about to suggest they watch a movie together in bed when she heard the unmistakable sound of crying from across the hall. There wasn't a moment's thought as they both headed into Mark's room.

Emily flipped on the light to find a sobbing three year old sitting in the bed. Walking over, Dave looked down at Mark. "Hey, there. What's going on?" he asked soothingly.

When all he got was more wailing, Dave picked up the child, holding him gently to his shoulder. "It's okay, Mark. We got you. It's going to be all right."

Joining Dave, she rubbed circles over Mark's little back, making soothing noises.

It took a while, but Mark's sobbing eventually calmed to sniffling hiccups. Emily sat next to Dave on the bed while Dave held Mark in his lap.

"Do you want to tell us what's wrong?" When he didn't receive a response, Dave guessed, "Were you scared of sleeping a new room?"

Mark nodded pitifully, and Dave pulled him closer. "Would you feel better if one of us slept in the room with you?"

"Yeah," Mark whispered with a more emphatic nod.

"Okay," He started to lift Mark, but the boy just clung to him. Looking Mark in the eye, Dave told him, "I'm just going to get my pajamas and a mattress I can put next to your bed. I'll be right back, okay?"

Standing up, Dave placed Mark in Emily's lap. "Are you going to be okay on the air mattress? I can sleep in here."

Dave shook his head. "I'll be fine. You can take the bed."

As they waited for Dave to come back, Emily gently rocked Mark while she hummed some Frank Sinatra songs. His occasional tears dampened her shirt, but she simply brushed her hand over his hair. "Dave will be right back," she soothed. "And then you can get a safe, good night's sleep."

Dave came back a few moments later, dressed in his pajamas, carrying the air mattress. As he inflated it, Emily settled Mark back in his bed. Mark scooted closer to the edge, watching Dave. Emily retrieved a spare set of blankets, sheets and pillows.

"How's this, kiddo?" Dave asked as he settled down. "Can you see me okay?" Mark nodded. "I'm going to be here all night, and you'll see me first thing in the morning. I'm not going anywhere."

"Thank you," Mark murmured.

"We'd do anything for you." Emily placed another kiss on his forehead. "Goodnight, baby."

"What about me?" Dave pouted as she almost left the room.

Rolling her eyes, she bent down. "Oh, I guess." She kissed him playfully on the lips.

Casting one last look at what were now her boys, she shut the light off.

* * *

After a week of Dave sleeping on the air mattress, they had still hadn't come to a solution. Dave's back ached constantly and Emily missed having him in their bed. Emily tried to switch with him, but Mark only cried out for Dave. There was the brief consideration of bringing Mark into their room, but they didn't want to set a bad precedent.

Stumped for a solution, they started to despair until Mudgie came to the rescue. The dog wandered into the room one night, nesting at the foot of Mark's bed. The next morning, Mark was too preoccupied playing with the Lab on the bed to notice Dave was still in the room. They slowly eased Mark out of having Dave sleep in the room. Dave stayed a couple more full nights, then moved to leaving after Mark fell asleep, and finally stopped sleeping in the room all together. Mark seemed perfectly content with Mudgie, and Mudgie liked sleeping on bed where he wouldn't get kicked off of it.

"Do you think he was abused?"

Setting down the spatula, Emily followed Dave's gaze to the dining room. Mark sat, rolling a toy car back and forth on the table, while making quiet motor noises.

"I don't think so." Emily wiped her hands on a towel.

Dave cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure? I spent time with all of my nieces and nephews when they were young, and I could never get any of them to shut up for more than five seconds," he said with gruff affection. "Mark is so quiet, you hardly knows he's there sometimes."

Blowing out a breath, Emily leaned against the cabinets. "The social worker said he had a physical exam and went to a child psychologist after they found him at the hospital. They couldn't find any evidence of physical or mental abuse." She pursed her lips in thought. "No, I think more than anything he's just scared of being somewhere new; he was bounced around to three different foster homes so he hasn't had any kind of stability for a while."

Nodding in agreement, Dave rubbed his goatee. "You do have a point." He picked up his coffee cup. "We'll just make sure he gets settled here." He joined Mark at the table, and Emily watched as Dave found another car on the floor, and tried to encourage Mark to race him. She wished fiercely Mark would become a part of their home.

* * *

"You see, kiddo, women use shopping trips to torture men. It's been scientifically proven you can in fact die of boredom, and women found this out. Ever since the first shops were built-"

"Hey!" Emily whipped her head around to where Dave stood whispering his impromptu lesson to Mark. "You might want to stand a little further away when say things like that." She arched an eyebrow. "My roundhouse kick has some distance."

"Sorry, dear."

Going back to the table of shorts, Emily started searching for Mark's size. "Besides, we're almost done. We just need some more shorts, shirts, socks, underwear, and pajamas."

Her statement was met with a big and little sigh.

Facing the boys again, she placed a hand on her hip. "Would like a little cheese with that whine, Dave?"

He didn't take the bait though. "You know what else he needs? Toys." Mark's brown eyes lit up, and he sucked in an excited breath.

Gesturing to the child, Dave nodded approvingly. "You see? We should take a break and find him some cool toys." When she didn't immediately answer, he cocked his head with that sweet, crooked smile. "Please?"

It was one thing when Dave gave her that expectant expression, but her resolve melted completely as Mark joined him. His little eyebrows rose, and his body quivered with the possibility. He didn't have any toys with the few things he had when they picked him up. And the only toys they had for him were the few things J.J. had given them from Garcia's fairy godmother overflow.

Besides, how could she deny that sweet little face?

She held on for a few moments; she couldn't give them satisfaction of giving in _that_ easily. "Okay," she told them grudgingly. "Let me pay for these, and we can go find a toy store in the mall."

The three of them walked out of the store, and started toward the other end of the mall. However, Mark slowed down halfway there to stare at a brightly colored store with a myriad of bears in the display windows.

"What did you find?" Looking up, Dave read the sign. "Build-A-Bear? Is this some kind of teddy bear place?"

"Your powers of deduction know no bounds, David," Emily deadpanned. "It's no wonder you're a top ranking profiler." She laughed at his scowl. "Yes, it's a teddy bear place. You pick out, build, and dress your own bear." She gazed down at Mark. "Does this sound like something you want to do?"

"Yeah," he said enthusiastically.

Entering the store, they spent several minutes going over the choices displayed on the wall. Mark eventually settled on the chocolate-colored cub with a cream muzzle. Emily was glad she brought the camera as the sales girl stuffing the bear made Mark rub a little cloth heart on his stomach, jump up and down, and kiss it before placing it inside the bear. After giving the bear a "bath" with the air streams, they went to pick out an outfit.

Staring at the racks and racks of different teddy bear outfit, Dave shook his head. "When I was a kid, you were lucky if your bear had a bow tie around its neck. Now you can dress them as surfers."

"And baseball players," Emily said holding up a pinstripe uniform.

"Really? That would make a neat bear." Dave asked Mark, "What do you think? You like this one?"

He slowly shook his head. "Can I get the fireman?" He pointed to the black jacket that came with a little flashlight and plastic helmet.

Taking it off the rack, Dave headed to the register, but Emily told him they could dress the bear at the counter below them. He took out his small pocket knife to cut away at the tag attachment pieces. They waited patiently as Mark dressed his teddy bear.

"He looks pretty cool, buddy." Dave crouched down next to the boy. "Hey, you know my brother is a fireman. We could probably visit his firehouse sometime."

"Really?" Mark hugged his little fireman cub close to him.

"Yeah." Taking his hand, Dave started to the registers. "I'll call him and see what a good day is, and we can take a drive out to see him."

"Umm, Dave." He turned to face her as she pointed to the large, colorful computers. "Birth certificates."

"The bears get birth certificates too?"

* * *

Surprisingly, it didn't take much time to arrange a visit. Ten days later they headed down to Richmond to see Dave's younger brother, Nick. Mark sat in the backseat, with his bear, Siren.

As they approached the firehouse, Emily could see the fire truck sitting outside the garage, the red vehicle gleaming in the sunlight. One of the men who had been polishing the truck waved to them as they pulled into a parking space.

Nick Rossi looked almost like Dave, except he had broader shoulders, thicker arms, and a flat stomach…not that Emily had noticed. But where he appeared to be physically intimidating, he had a warm, friendly personality.

"How ya doin', big brother?" Nick greeted warmly. Hugging Dave, he picked him up off of the ground.

"Good to see you too, Nick," Dave groaned when he stood on his feet again.

Nick laughed at Dave's pained expression. Turning to Emily, he kissed her cheek. "Hey, Emily. How are you?"

"I'm great," she replied.

Then Nick turned his attention to Mark, who'd hung back behind Dave's legs. "And this must be your little guy."

"Sure is." Dave smiled proudly. He placed his hand on the child's shoulders. "Mark, this is my brother, Nick."

Crouching down, Nick held out his hand. "Hey, Mark. How are you?"

Shaking his hand, Mark quietly answered, "Fine."

Nick gestured to the building behind them. "Are you ready to get the all exclusive, special tour of the firehouse?"

"Yeah," Mark answered in the same quiet volume.

"That didn't sounds like you were ready," Nick pointed out. "You'll get to meet our dog, sit in the fire truck, and maybe even honk the horn, and that's all the excitement you can give me?" He cocked his head. "You gotta give me a better answer than that, buddy. Now let's try again. Are you ready to get a tour?"

"Yes!" Mark practically screamed, startling Dave and Emily.

Putting a hand on her chest, Emily chuckled. "I think that's the loudest he's ever been."

"Get used to it." Nick led them to the firehouse. "Once you get 'em going, they'll never shut up, and you'll need to buy stock in aspirin."

True to his word, Nick gave them a very thorough tour. He led them to the living room area, through the kitchen to the sleeping quarters. Then it was off to the garage where Emily was glad she'd purchased a two-gigabyte memory card for the camera. She got pictures of Mark sliding down the pole (after Nick held him up part of the way and let him come down). Then Nick placed one of the helmets on Mark, which slipped down, covering his eyes. And she didn't miss a moment of his gleeful expression as Nick let him climb all over the truck.

Then they headed out back, where a small hose sat attached to spigot. Turning on the water, Nick helped Mark hold the hose, and let him direct the spray. Nick whispered something in Mark's ear, and somehow Dave ended up with wet shoes.

Shutting off the water, Nick wound up the hose. "That was pretty good. We'll have to talk about training one day." He looked at his watch. "I don't know about you, but I'm getting pretty hungry. Would you guys like to stay for lunch?" Mark replied with a very enthusiastic yes.

Nick started walking. "It's my turn to cook for the guys, and I'm going to make spaghetti. Davey and I can show you the special Rossi family sauce secret. But you got to promise not to tell anyone."

"'Kay, I promise."

"I like how I get volunteered to help cook for twelve people," Dave commented dryly.

Looking back at him, Nick grinned. "I knew you would."

Emily sat in the living room with the other firemen while the Rossi guys cooked (not that it was a hardship to be in a room with eight other buff men). She purposely grabbed a seat where she could see into the kitchen as Dave and Nick showed Mark how to make the sauce. Dave held Mark up so the toddler could add the appropriate spices to the sauce. And Nick let the boy be the official taste tester.

Lunch came, and the crew treated Mark like a king, letting him sit at the head of the table, and giving him an extra brownie for dessert. Emily sat with Nick at the table while the other men cleaned up and Dave and Mark sat in front of the TV, playing with the station dog.

Emily placed a hand on his arm. "Thank you for doing this, Nick. This was a really great day for him."

Nick grunted. "Think nothing of it. I love showing kids around here." He jerked his head in the direction of Mark. "Especially him." A moment of silence went by. "You know, you and Davey are doing a great job with him. He's a good kid."

The three finally headed back to the car, with Nick seeing them out. Mark carried a bag full of stickers, pencils, and other assorted firehouse related trinkets.

Hugging his brother, Dave clapped him on the back. "It was good to see you again."

"Wish I could say the same for you," Nick grinned.

After Emily smacked a kiss on Nick's cheek, the younger Rossi brother kneeled down to Mark's eye level. "It was good to meet you. I hope you had fun."

"I had _lots_ of fun," Mark enthused. "Thank you very much, Mister Nick."

"Hey, that's Uncle Nick to you," the fireman told his nephew in a serious tone, but with a friendly smile. "You feel free to come back anytime. And I hope I can come visit you."

"Yeah!"

After strapping Mark in the car seat, Dave and Emily waved goodbye to Nick one last time. Both them smiled as Mark showed Siren all of his goodies on the way home.

When they pulled into the driveway, Emily let Mark out and watched as he went over to Dave and plastered his little body against Dave's legs. "Thank you for taking me today."

He tried to hide it, but Emily didn't miss that suspicious shine in her husband's eyes. "You're welcome, kiddo," he said, ruffling Mark's hair.

* * *

The next several days passed with trips to the aquarium, the F.B.I's airstrip, and a carnival at a nearby park. During those times, Emily couldn't help but notice Mark trailing beside Dave. When they wanted him to stay close in crowds, Mark automatically grabbed Dave's hand.

It wasn't that Mark disliked Emily; he acted polite, and seemed happy when she came home from running errands. But it seemed as if Dave received more of the messy finger paintings and little hugs.

One rainy afternoon, about three weeks after they brought him home, Emily sat in the office, on a conference call with the team. They'd been sent out to Indianapolis on a series of attacks against single males in their late-twenties. A replacement for Dave had already been found, but working with someone new always took time for adjustment. She'd discussed victimology and possible motives for over two hours before they thought a possible lead been uncovered. Stretching, Emily stacked the faxed papers in a neat pile before placing them in the filing cabinet.

She headed downstairs to relieve Dave of watching Mark for a while. She thought they could play with the fire trucks Nick had brought or teach him how to play Candy Land. Instead, she found Mark on the couch with Dave, as they watched a baseball game.

"What's a foul ball?" Mark asked him.

"You see those white lines on the field?" Dave pointed to the large screen. "Those are the foul lines, and if a batter hits the ball behind those lines, it's a foul and counts as a strike, but only twice. After that, batter can keep fouling the ball until the pitcher strikes him out." Settling back into the cushions, Dave smiled. "But Johan Santana is pitching for the Mets so the batter will be out soon."

Sure enough, Santana struck out Alex Rodriguez, and Dave to clap to loudly. Walking into the living room, Emily stood beside the couch. "Hey, guys. How's it going?"

"Mets are leading the Yankees in the top of seventh, so, not bad," Dave answered before sipping his beer.

Emily nodded her approval, and then turned her attention to the child. "Hey, Mark, did you want to come play a game with me?"

"No, I wanna stay with Dave."

"Oh," she answered evenly despite the fact her heart constricted slightly. The three of them had done plenty of activities as a family, and she knew Mark loved to spend time with Dave. But she had barely spent any time exclusively with him. "Okay."

"We're doing okay," Dave gazed up to reassure her.

"You don't need a break?"

"Nah, we'll probably end up playing with the fire trucks in a little bit. I can't imagine he'll want to sit here much longer."

"Okay," she repeated absently. "I'm all finished with my work, so I'll just join you guys."

She moved to sit on the other side of Mark, who scooted closer to Dave. Her husband smiled, putting an arm around his shoulder.

"Now they call the most pathetic creatures on Earth Red Sox fans," he explained to Mark, "but really that title belongs to Mets and Cubs fans."

* * *

"I can't believe I have to go to Omaha, and you guys get to stay here to enjoy this beautiful weather," Emily grumbled as she placed her laptop in her bag.

Sitting at the table, Dave shook his head. "Hey I offered to go, but you said no."

"You don't even work for the F.B.I. anymore so it might be a little tough." Hotch had called, asking if she could join the team as they tracked a serial killer targeting teenage boys. He offered her two additional weeks of her Family Leave so she knew it was really serious. After hanging up with Hotch, she and Dave struggled with the decision for her to go as she didn't want to leave Mark so soon. But Emily reasoned catching the killer would prevent more deaths so she agreed to join the team.

Slinging the bag over her shoulder, she grabbed her keys. "Are you guys going to be okay for a few days?"

"Oh, yeah." Dave waved absently. "Nick's fire station plays softball and they have a game on Friday. I think I'll take Mark down there to watch. And I'm sure there's some kiddy movie we can go to over the weekend.

She pretended to be very interested in the bottom of her coffee cup. "Good, I'm sure you guys will have a great time."

"Em," he started in a serious tone he'd often used on suspects, but the honking outside interrupted them.

"That's my cab," she said, picking up her go-bag. "I'll call you when I get in." She kissed Dave quickly, and gave Mark a long hug. "Bye, baby. You be good for Dave."

He wrapped an arm around her side before taking off back to Dave. "'Kay. Bye!"

She rushed outside, already focusing her mind on the case.

Two straight days of reading files and interviewing distraught families left Emily drained. After finding no substantial leads, Hotch sent the team back to the hotel for some much needed rest. Fishing out her cell phone, she lay on the bed, needing to hear Dave and Mark's voices. Thankfully, Dave picked up after two rings.

"Hello, tesora," he greeted in a warm, smooth voice that instantly made her smile. "How's the case going?"

"Not really going," she sighed. "We haven't found anything new yet."

"But you will."

She settled against the pillows. "How are things at home?" This was the first time she had a "home" to ask about and the thought lifted a heavy weight off of her heart.

"Not too bad," he answered. "We're just grilling some burgers here, and I made some pasta salad." As if he could read her thoughts, he added, "Don't worry; I also cut up some veggies for Mark. He's playing in the backyard; would you like to talk to him?"

"Of course." She grinned, one of the few times she loved that her husband was a profiler; he knew she would rather talk about anything other than the case.

Emily heard the muffled sound of Dave calling for Mark. The sound of small shoes smacking against the tile floor made her ache for home, but not as much as the sound of Mark's voice. "'Ello?"

"Hi, sweetie! How are you?"

"Okay."

"It's so good to hear you. I miss you so much," she told him sincerely. "Are you and Dave having a good time?"

"Yeah!" His little voice vibrated with energy. "Dave took me to see Uncle Nick play ball an-an-an-and a ball went into the seats and Dave caught it! He gave it to me and he put it on a shelf in my room. Yesterday Dave and me went to the park with Mudgie and I-I-I-I threw the Frisbee for Mudgie and it went really, really, really far. He had to run really fast to get it."

She found herself blinking back tears. It may have sounded like Mark had a stutter, but she'd read that sometimes when children were excited, their voices couldn't catch up with their brains. The fact that he sounded so eager meant he was happy.

Placing an arm behind her head, she released a content breath. "Yeah, what else did you do?"

"Dave let me feed the ducks, and a little, baby duck came up to me…"

* * *

Eight days after tracking and catching one of the bloodiest serial killers they'd encountered, Emily jumped to the door before the plane had even come to a complete stop. She could understand why J.J. would simply head home unless it was absolutely necessary to head back to the office. Emily wanted nothing more than to see her guys' smiling faces; a reminder good things in the world still existed.

Not bothering to call Dave, she simply took a cab back to the house. She raced inside, dumping her bags by the door. "Dave! Mark! I'm home!" Walking to the living room, she didn't see or hear them. Finally she looked out back where she found the two playing in the yard.

"Hey, guys!" she greeted, stepping out on the deck.

A large smile spread across Dave's face. "Em!" He jogged over to her, giving her a long kiss. "Why didn't you call? We would have come pick you up."

She traced the skin behind his ear. "Oh, there were some delays, and our take-off time kept getting pushed back." Kissing him again, she sighed happily. "Besides, I just wanted to come home."

After another hug, she ventured out into the grass toward Mark, who held a plastic baseball bat. "Hey, Mark!" She wrapped her arms around him. Inhaling the scent of clean baby soap calmed her insides. "I missed you so much! Did you miss me?"

"Yeah," he simply answered.

His reply made her feel that much better. "I'm sorry I couldn't get home sooner. What did you guys end up doing?"

"We had a great time!" Dave joined them in the grass. "After I took him to see Nick's softball game, he was so excited to play himself. I got him a ball and ball set." He tossed up the white, plastic baseball he'd been holding. "I've been teaching him how to catch and hit. In fact, watch this…" Walking down about ten or twelve feet, Dave faced Mark and Emily.

Stepping back, she watched as Mark held the bat up in a batter's stance.

"Okay, buddy, keep your eye on the ball," Dave told him, getting ready to pitch. "Just like we talked about."

Swinging his arm back, Dave threw a slow underhanded pitch. With the tip of his tongue peeking out, Mark carefully watched the ball approach him, and whacked it over Dave's head, all the way to the fence.

Clapping, Dave grinned. "Did you see that? The kid's going to be an all-star!" He laughed as Mark ran to the makeshift bases they'd created. Halfway between what appeared to first and second, Dave caught him, tossing the boy over his shoulder. Mark squealed and giggled with delight as Dave spun him around.

"Another homerun by Mark sends the Cubs to their record setting fifth consecutive World Series win!"

Emily smiled at the scene before her, but had to bite the inside of her lip to keep her eyes from watering over. It had been a long time since she felt like a stranger in her own home, but she'd always grown accustomed to the feeling. Though now the pain seemed almost unbearable.

It was still early, but Emily had already gone to the bedroom. She lay on her side, staring at the wall. When they'd put Mark to bed, she started to read _Green Eggs and Ham_, but Mark complained she needed to do the voices. She started to try the voices, but apparently they still didn't sound right. Dave ended up taking over, which pleased Mark. Plastering on a smile, she'd kissed the boy goodnight.

She went over the last few weeks in her mind, searching for any moment she might have missed with Mark; a time where she might have inadvertently ignored him when he wanted to do something. Some missed opportunity. Maybe she said something unintentionally mean to Mark. Emily immediately dismissed the thought. She'd had to discipline him before, but there had been no severe punishments for things like not picking up toys.

Dave seemed to have easily bonded with the child. Why couldn't she?

Hearing the door creak open, she didn't bother turning over. The sound of Dave's heavy footsteps grew closer as he stood at the foot of the bed. "I just checked on Mark. He and Mudgie are snoring so loudly that I think a power saw would sound quieter."

The mattress dipped under Dave's weight as he sat down. "What's going on, Em? You've been quiet all evening."

"Nothing," she lied. "I'm just tired from the flight."

He didn't say anything, lying down next to her. Gently, he started running his hand up and down her back.

"I'm sorry about the whole bedtime story thing. Mark got fussy one night while you were gone and wanted me to sleep in the room again. He calmed down when I read the book doing goofy voices."

Shrugging, she murmured, "Its okay."

After all of their time working together and being married, Emily still didn't know why she thought she could fool him. A moment of silence went by before Dave quietly asked, "Is this about Mark?"

Her muscles stiffened as she didn't answer him. She tried to subtly scoot closer to the edge of the bed. Dave just laid his head next to hers on the pillow, spooning behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing her closer to him.

Strangely, it was his touch that put her over. The tears she'd held back for days slowly slid down her face. "It's just," she paused, swallowing. "I don't think Mark likes me very much."

"What?" She could hear the incredulity in his voice. "How could you say that?" He tried to turn her to face him, but she struggled for a few moments before she realized she didn't have any fight left.

Turning over, her eyes remained downcast. He placed a gentle hand on her cheek. "Mark doesn't not like you. That boy loves you."

"It's not about that." She sucked in a shaky breath. "I haven't spent any real time with him. We haven't really…bonded. You've got the firefighter thing and baseball with him. And I don't have a special activity with him." Her voice cracked.

"Oh, sweetie…" Tucking a strand of hair around her ear, his eyes shone with sorrow and more than anything she didn't want his pity.

"I know I sound needy and silly, but that's how I feel." She fiddled with a button on his shirt. "But I know the most important thing is that Mark be happy, but maybe…" A fresh set of tears pooled in her eyes. "Maybe I'm not maternal and he senses that."

"Hey now," he gently admonished. "That's my wife you're talking about." His thumb brushed away the wetness on her cheeks. "Do you remember the day we got Mark's picture?"

How could she forget? Emily remembered that day as being the best one she'd had in the months of getting heartbreaking fertility news and jumping every hoop in the adoption process only to find more hoops. It was the day she knew her dreams had come true.

After nodding, Dave went on, "You cried when I showed you Mark's pictures. In your gut, you knew we were supposed to raise him; that we would be a family." Entwining their fingers, he kissed her knuckles. "And who would have done that, but a mother?"

"I guess," she murmured, not fully conceding he had a point.

"And how would you profile a kid who clings to male figures?"

She frowned in thought, wondering where he was going this one. "That they didn't have a strong female presence in their life."

"Precisely. I read Mark's file, and the foster home he stayed at the longest was one where the father worked from home." Dave moved closer to her. "The mother was a teacher, and was gone all day."

Kissing her forehead, he let his lips linger on her skin. "It's not you, Emily. Mark just needs time to get used to spending quality time with a mother. You are doing a great job." He forced her to look him in the eye. "You _are_."

She exhaled a shaky breath. "I hope so." She realized she answered both of his statements. He pulled her to his body in a comforting embrace, and she let the hot tears fall on his shoulder.

* * *

"Of course they've already bonded! They're boys; boogers and dinosaurs are part of the universal male language."

Emily's body fell back in the chair as held the telephone. "As always, Grandma, you know what to say to make me feel better."

"I'm serious," her grandmother continued, oblivious to Emily's dry tone. "Did you know there are parts of the Y-chromosome that scientists have dubbed 'junk DNA?' Seriously. There are thousands of genes they cannot figure out." She chuckled. "I'm sure the whole secret to the male bonding experience lies within those supposedly useless genes."

Emily bit back a frustrated sigh. "And what does this have to do with me?"

"Well, if we knew how it worked, we could get you bonded with Mark."

Taking a deep breath, Emily silently counted to ten. "Thank you for the great advice Grandma, now if you'll excuse me-" Before she start the syllable of her next word, her grandmother cut in.

"Emily Rose, don't you dare hang up the phone," she sternly demanded, one of the few times Emily remembered Estelle raised her mother.

Gripping the phone harder, Emily bit her lip, silently waiting.

Her grandmother's tone softened slightly. "Now I apologize, dear; I was only trying to cheer you up. But you need calm down. You always come to the worst possible conclusion when something doesn't go right."

A moment went by as Emily let her words sink in. "You're right," she quietly admitted. "I'm sorry."

"Sweetheart, you know this thing with Mark isn't about you," she told Emily lovingly. "He hasn't had a stable home with a woman who could give him individual attention. Don't foster homes often have more than one child?"

"They do," Emily answered.

"Kids that young are also blank slates; you never know what they're going to like until you hand it to them. Dave has just gotten lucky with finding out what Mark likes. You, my dear, just need to keep trying. Don't push him, but don't give up." There was a faint sound of a seagull, and Emily knew Estelle was sitting on the deck. "Because if you give up, I will personally come all the way to Georgetown to kick your butt. You got that?"

Rolling her eyes, Emily grinned. "Yes, Grandma."

* * *

A few days later, Emily spent the afternoon alone with Mark. Dave had asked to play a round of golf with Hotch, but she suspected his real motive was for her to have one-on-one time with Mark. The day had passed normally with walking Mudgie and a game of Go-Fish. Mark had gone down for a nap a little earlier, and Emily took the opportunity to watch _Star Wars: A New Hope_. She had always found comfort in watching the sci-fi adventure.

Just as Obi-Wan and Luke had entered Mos-Eisley, Mark came into the living room, rubbing his eyes.

Emily sat up. "Hey, there. Did you sleep okay?" She smiled when he yawned, nodding. "How about a snack?" She got up from the sofa to go to the kitchen.

A few minutes later she returned with apple slices and a small cup of peanut butter. She found Mark sitting on the sofa, engrossed in the Cantina scene. "What is this?" he pointed to the TV.

"This is Star Wars. Do you want to watch it with me?"

"Yeah!"

They settled back against the cushions together. Almost immediately, Emily began to fret about her decision. Besides Penelope, Kevin, and Reid, she didn't know any one who loved Star Wars movies. Dave simply put up with her multiple viewings the same way she did with him and _The Godfather_. She worried she had made her choice in letting Mark watch it haste. Was it too violent? Would Darth Vader give him nightmares? Would the other aliens and creatures scare him?

She held her breath when Mark's eyes got big as he first saw Darth Vader when the Millennium Falcon got pulled into the Death Star. But he leaned forward slightly. "Who is that?"

"That's Darth Vader," she told him. "He's the bad guy who is after Luke."

"Whoooah." He drew out the word. "Is he like a robot?"

Emily contemplated her response for a moment. The nerd in her wanted to tell Mark the robots were called droids, but she knew the simplest answer would suffice. "He's more machine than man. But yes, he is a robot."

Throughout the rest of the movie she patiently answered all of Mark's questions about the characters, creatures, and space ships. He crawled closer to the TV as the Rebels attacked the Death Star and cheered when Han knocked Vader's TIE Fighter out of the fight so Luke could fire the proton torpedoes.

"That was so cool!" Mark told her as she put the DVD back in the case causing Emily to grin down at him.

The next day brought inky, black clouds that turned into a nasty rainstorm, complete with thunder and lightning. To distract Mark, who grew frightened from the loud cracks of thunder, Dave suggested a movie night. "Let's pop some popcorn, grab some blankets and pillows, and watch a movie." He opened the door to the large DVD shelf. "What shall it be?"

"Star Wars!" Mark exclaimed.

Cocking an eyebrow, Dave stared at Emily. She waved her hand at him. "Oh I was watching it yesterday when he woke up from his nap. He seemed to like it."

"Enough to watch it two days in a row like some people I know."

She narrowed her eyes in a mock scowl at Dave. Then she looked at Mark. "You know there is more than one Star Wars movie?"

"Really?"

"Yup." She brushed passed Dave, showing Mark the DVD case. "The next one is called _The Empire Strikes Back._"

He took it from her, staring at the cover. "Can we watch this?"

"Of course," she replied. "Go get your bear and blanket and I'll put this in." She watched as Mark scampered off to his bedroom. When she turned back to Dave, he smiled smugly.

"I have to make a quick call to Morgan so don't start without me."

Her forehead wrinkled. "Why do you have to call Morgan?"

"Because he owes me money." At her stare, Dave went on, "We made a bet on long it would take for you to show our child a Star Wars movie. Morgan thought it would be at least six months, but I knew better."

Even though he'd made it across the living room, the throw pillow still hit him in the face.

Dave's obsessive, neat freak habits mostly drove Emily to thoughts of alcoholism, but occasionally they were useful; especially when she went searching through the attic. Every labeled box sat neatly stacked against the wall. It didn't take her long to find the one with her figurines in it. She dragged back downstairs, opening it in the hallway. The box contained all of the Star Wars figures she'd had as a child. Her grandmother had taken her to see _Episode IV_ in theatres and she'd been hooked ever since. Much to her mother's dismay, Estelle had sent her the toys while they lived in other countries.

The figures weren't worth any money as they had been taken out of the packaging and well loved. She thought if Mark was interested, he could have them.

Bringing the box to the living room, she set it down near where Mark played. He stopped rolling his fire truck around. "What's that?"

"These are some of my old Star Wars toys." She started pulling them out for him. "I thought if you wanted them, you could play with them."

As she brought them out, Mark named each of the characters, already displaying his knowledge of the movies. He'd begged nearly everyday to watch them in the last two weeks. Emily had watched the original trilogy with him, being careful of any parts he might have found scary and explaining each character to him. Mark did well, having no sci-fi related nightmares.

"Will you play Star Wars with me?" Mark asked once Emily put aside the empty box.

"Sure, Mark. Who do you want to be?"

"I wanna be Luke Skywalker and Yoda."

"And who do I get to be?"

He thrust a brown figure at her. "You can be Chewie."

Staring at the toy in her hand, she shook her head slightly. How did she get associated with the hairy Wookie? But one look into his big brown eyes had her pulling out her best Wookie call, causing him to laugh. They spent the rest of the afternoon creating their own version of the films through Mark's imagination.

* * *

There was no doubt in Emily's mind that Penelope Garcia was a genius. The tech analyst could claim every one of her self-proclaimed titles. Garcia had become very excited upon hearing Mark had enjoyed Star Wars. She started drowning the boy in movie related clothing, stuffed animals, and other toys. She'd even sent Emily a website, describing how to make lightsabers out of silver duct tape and pool noodles. It became her afternoon project with Mark while Dave took his truck for an oil change. She made a green lightsaber while Mark fashioned himself a blue one.

Then of course it was necessary to make sure they worked so it was off to the backyard for an epic battle. Emily chased Mark all over the yard, much to his delight. At one point she'd managed to knock his lightsaber out of his hand, and she possessed both. He started backing away as she advanced on him, but he stopped and held his arm out toward her.

Stopping her attack, she stared at Mark. "What are you doing?"

His face scrunched up in determination. "I'm using the force to get my lightsaber back."

"Aaaaah, gotcha." She tossed him the lightsaber and they continued to battle.

Dave came outside just as they stormed over the deck. "There you guys are! I was looking everywhere in the house for you when I came home." He gestured to the pool noodles. "What are those?"

"Lightsabers," Emily answered as if it weren't unusual at all to own one. Mark had gained some momentum, swinging his lightsaber with more force.

"I see." A quick glance at Dave showed he was watching them with odd fascination, much like the first time he found her collection of Star Wars novels.

The split second she didn't pay attention to Mark proved to be fatal as he hit her legs, effectively "cutting" them off. She fell to her knees in a dramatic fashion complete with groans.

"Now finish her," Dave playfully encouraged, and Mark followed his instructions, softly jabbing her in the stomach.

"Aaaaaah!" she yelled before falling to her back, arms and legs spread out as she closed her eyes.

She kept her eyes shut as she felt Mark approach her side. "Did I getcha, Emily?"

Then her eyes shot open, and she grabbed Mark, pinning him on his back to the ground. "No, but I got you!" she triumphantly declared before she started tickling him. He tried to protest, but was too busy laughing and squealing. Her fingers wiggled over his sides and his stomach.

"I've got you! I win! I win! You have much to learn about the ways of the force before you can get me, young Padawan."

* * *

Through their many play sessions, Emily found Mark had a creative imagination. He could turn any surface into the desserts of Tatooine or the forests of Endor. When Mudgie would decide he wanted to join them and trample through their play areas, Mark morphed the dog into an AT-AT. Emily learned to perfect her Darth Vader imitation, often using it on Mark.

One evening Mark protested against taking his bath, but Emily simply scooped him off of the floor. "Your destiny lies with soap, Skywalker. Obi-Wan knew this to be true." The impression made Mark to giggle.

On a gorgeous, cool summer evening, they decided to have dinner on the deck. Dave and Emily talked about projects for the house. Emily mentioned putting in a small fire pit in the back so they could roast marshmallows for s'mores.

"You know, we still haven't redecorated Mark's bedroom." Dave took a bite of mashed potatoes. "Has he mentioned anything to you about what he wants?"

"Nothing." Picking up a fork, she put it in Mark's hand. "You don't eat potatoes with your fingers, honey; use a fork." She faced Dave again. "That would be a great project for the weekend though."

"Definitely," Dave nodded in agreement. "We can get started on finding what we need."

"I've got some kids' bedroom décor catalogs in the house." Placing her napkin on the table, she stood up. "We look through them after dinner to see what he likes."

Mark put his fork down. "Can I have dessert now?"

Dave glanced at his plate. "You got to do a little more justice to your peas, buddy."

Sighing heavily, Mark picked up his utensil again. "Okay."

By the time Emily came back, Dave had told Mark to eat just one more bite of peas. Mark stuffed a huge forkful in his mouth.

"_Now_ can I have dessert?" he asked with his mouth full, spitting out chewed up peas with each word.

"First, don't talk with your mouth full." Leaning over, Dave wiped the child's mouth. "And yes, we can have dessert now." Dave stacked the plates to bring in the house.

Sitting down next to Mark, Emily opened one of the catalogs. "C'mere and look at these, Mark. This is stuff we can use to make your room different. Let's pick out something you like."

She allowed Mark to flip through the pages as she pointed at certain pictures. He shrugged and shook his head at many of the options. After what seemed like his five-hundredth "no" she sat back in chair.

Sipping her tea, Emily started going through a bedding catalog when Mark's voice broke her thoughts. "Can we make my room Star Wars, Mommy?"

She stared at him a full ten seconds before she responded. "What…what did you ask, sweetie?" Her throat became dry. She had to make sure she heard him correctly.

"Can we make my room Star Wars, Mommy?" He pointed to the page. "Look! They have Darth Vader on the sheets and a Yoda on the pillow. And look! There's a Millennium Falcon on the wall!"

His words echoed in her brain, but she really didn't register any of them except for "Mommy." Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and she took shallow breaths.

They never asked Mark to call them anything other than Dave and Emily. And for a while, Emily feared the boy would never think of her as a mother, let alone call her mommy.

For whatever reason, she'd never thought too much of playing Star Wars with Mark. She didn't want to jinx those moments, and have them ripped away from her. Now her son had uttered the most beautiful words she'd ever heard; _her son!_

Unable to hold back the tears, Emily leaned over to hug Mark tightly. "Sure, baby. We can decorate your room with Star Wars."

"Mommy, what's wrong?"

Chuckling through her tears, she kissed the top of Mark's head. "Nothing's wrong, sweetie. Absolutely nothing." She rocked him a bit. "I just love you very much."

His little arms went around her. "I love you bunches."

Dave came back out, carrying a pie. His face scrunched up in confusion. "What's going on, guys?"

"Daddy!" Mark exclaimed. "Mommy said we can make my room Star Wars! Can we also make it baseball too?"

Blinking, Dave's mouth hung open. He finally worked his mouth into a shaky smile. "You want to make your room baseball _and_ Star Wars?"

"Yes." Mark's head bobbed up and down several times.

As Mark crawled into Emily's lap, Dave joined them at the table. Leaning over, Dave pressed a soft kiss to her lips before hugging Mark. "I think that can be arranged, son."

* * *

"Daddy, why do we have to get dressed up?" Mark played with the buttons of his long sleeved shirt.

Reaching down, Dave straightened the little boy's collar. "Because we're going to the courthouse and it's respectful to dress up for the judge."

"Why are we seeing the judge?"

Emily walked into the living room, fastening in an earring. "We're going to sign the papers that say we're your mom and dad," she grinned.

Mark's forehead furrowed. "But you _are _my mommy and daddy."

Pulling Mark to his side, Dave laid an arm on his shoulder. "We know, buddy. This just makes it official."

They arrived at the state courthouse, and walked down a long hallway to Judge Holstein's office. As they approached the door, they noticed a crowd waiting outside.

"What's going on here?" Emily started to ask, but then she recognized all of the faces. "Oh my God, guys! What are you doing here?"

The whole team had showed up along with Will holding Henry, Kevin next to Garcia, and Jack holding Hotch's hand. She and Dave were then met with hugs and kisses from Nick and his wife who had surprised them by bringing Dave's parents.

"You all were supposed to meet us at the restaurant," Dave shook his head in amused disbelief. They'd decided to have a big dinner to celebrate the signing of the official adoption papers, only it appeared everyone wanted to start the celebration early.

"Now you couldn't possibly think we were going to miss this moment, did you?" A voice piped in from the back of the group. Morgan and Reid parted to reveal Estelle as the owner of the voice, as well as Emily's mother and father.

After embracing her parents and grandmother, Emily laughed at this wonderful surprise. The group started happily chattering away when a befuddled assistant emerged from the judge's office.

"Um, David and Emily Rossi?"

Dave waved his hand. "That's us."

"The judge will see you in his chambers now." The assistant looked at the rest of the group. "Just these two."

The two brought Mark to the office where Judge Holstein sat behind a large mahogany desk. The judge first asked Dave and Emily a few questions and then he turned his attention to Mark. He asked the toddler about how Mark liked living with Dave and Emily and what kinds of activities they did together. Mark excitedly told him about baseball games, all of his Star Wars toys, and playing with the dog.

"Well, everything seems to be going great with you three," the judge grinned. "I see absolutely no reason to delay this any further." He pulled out a stack of papers when the same assistant came into the room, looking a bit more frazzled.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, your honor, but I cannot hold that group any longer. They are demanding to come in."

"We're sorry about that," Emily apologized. "It's our families. We told them we would meet them afterward."

Still smiling, the judge waved a negligent hand. "It's no problem. I'm always happy when I see the whole family for occasions like this. It lets me know the state has made the right decision."

Within moments, the group pushed inside the room, behind and to the side of where Dave, Emily, and Mark sat.

Pulling out a pen, Judge Holstein scribbled his name across the bottom of the page. He then turned the paper to Emily and Dave. "All you need to do is sign at the bottom."

Taking the offered pen, Dave's hand shook so badly, he had to take a moment before signing. When it was Emily's turn, her vision blurred with tears so badly, she was sure half of her signature ended up below the line.

When she handed the paper back, the judge set them on the blotter, folding his hands over them. "By the power vested in me, by the District of Columbia, I now pronounce Mark David Rossi as your son."

The sound of clapping filled the room as well as a few sniffles. Emily hugged Mark to her chest with one arm while Dave grasped her other hand tightly. How long had she dreamed of a family of her own? Now she didn't have to fall asleep to be with that family. Dave and Mark were part of that beautiful reality.

The End


End file.
